Chapter Eight
by legalliz
Summary: A continuation of XanderInkWaster's "One Snowy Night," this chapter is meant as a shoutout to an interesting story as well as motivation to keep it going. To Xander: hope this helps with the writer's block, friend. To everyone else: hope you enjoy :)


_A/N: Because what could be more fun that fanfictioning a fanfiction story? Xanderinkwaster I like your twist on Stephanie Plum, and I hope this helps with any writer's block you have going. Good luck, and please continue soon! For the previous seven chapters of this story, check out Xanderinkwaster's "One Snowy Night". _

Whoever coined the phrase "things always look better in the morning" obviously had never spent the night tossing and turning, trying to process the impossibility of a human enigma sleeping next to them. That or they'd taken some giant sleeping pill and knocked themselves out properly. Stephanie should have seriously considered that.

Instead she spent several long hours staring at the wall, trying to resist the urge to do more research on her phone. But what was even left to research? She'd gone to Ranger with this. And Ranger had connections. The kind of connections that could probably tell you the exact dimensions of Neil Armstrong's spacesuit boot that had stepped on the moon…not to mention his blood type, his complete medical history, and the name of his aunt's best friend's cat. If Ranger's guy at the CIA came back with nada on this, there wasn't an ice cube's chance in hell she was going to fare any better with her limited resources.

The hours drug on at a snail's pace until at some point the mattress creaked in the silence next to her. Stephanie immediately tensed. Even more so when familiar arms circled her waist, pulling her close. Normally the gesture would have been a welcome reprieve from the raging storm of thoughts in her head, but not when the source of the gesture also just so happened to be the source of the storm. She fought the urge to flip over and yell _who the hell are you?_ while clobbering him mercilessly with her pillow. She didn't have to fight for long. In a matter of seconds, her body relaxed against his just as it always had. Traitor.

"More trouble sleeping?" he murmured against her ear, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.

He probably knew the answer already because she swore the man could read minds...especially hers. This, of course, led her to the sudden outlandish conclusion that he was AI. Or better yet, a terminator from the future. Stephanie tried not to panic as images of glowing red eyes and weapons sprouting where his arms and legs should be flashed through her mind.

"A little," she whispered, hoping like hell her sudden rush of childish nerves wasn't noticeable.

He pulled her even closer, and she suddenly realized he was more awake than she'd thought.

"I can help with that," he offered, tracing a tantalizingly slow and seductive line down the length of her body.

Ha! Was he serious? _That _was the absolute furthest thing from her mind!

Or was it?

The more his hands ghosted over her skin, the more she realized she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea.

Well, she was. Kind of. At least in the sense she wasn't too keen on the idea of sharing something so personal with someone who'd completely erased his past. Someone who still remained a mystery in literally _every_ sense of the term. Someone who denied her even the tiniest glimpse into who he really was. Someone who… Someone…

Dammit.

It was nearly impossible to generate a coherent thought with so much physical contact going on. Especially the particular kind of contact that he was so good at. A fleeting notion crossed her mind that he was using all of this as a distraction—had probably used it as such before—but by the time her clothes had all been skillfully removed, she found she really couldn't give a damn.

###

The next morning, Stephanie woke feeling like a cat having just finished basking in the sun, her body thoroughly spent and relaxed. Her brain on the other hand…

Her brain felt just as unsettled as she'd left it the night before. And things didn't get any better when she realized she was alone. Feeling frustrated that she was both terrific and terrible at the same time, she huffed a breath as she grabbed her phone from the night stand, groaning when she saw how late it was. No doubt he'd have some smart remark later about his successful remedy for sleep.

_If_ she'd allow him a word in edgewise, that is.

Stephanie flung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. The faint smell of coffee wafted through the room, which turned out to be a decent motivator to pull on some clothes and stumble out to the kitchen. But the look on the man's face sitting at the table waiting for her made her rethink the coffee. She should've snuck out the bedroom window instead.

"Not a word," she grumbled, holding up a finger as she poured herself a cup of the satisfyingly strong, black liquid. Stephanie hopped up on the counter and blew on her drink as the two sat staring at each other across the room.

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"I don't know. Whatever clever response you've concocted for the events that transpired last night."

He sipped at his coffee. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Oh good grief! You know, something all haughty and arrogant like 'rough night?' or 'sleep well?' or 'can't get rid of that smile, lass, can ye?'"

The phony impression of his accent didn't even phase him. He continued sipping his coffee, his face completely vacant of expression. "I wasn't aware ye were smiling."

Stephanie blew out an exasperated breath. "Well I'm not _now_. But I probably was. You know…earlier."

"And that was a bad thing?"

She slammed her mug on the counter, sloshing some of the hot coffee on her hand in the process. "Ouch and yes! I mean…no. I mean… Dammit!" She rubbed at the sore spot on her hand. "I don't know what I mean."

He got up from the table and made his way over to her, resting his hands on the counter on either side of her hips. She felt trapped, both by his current positioning and his penetrating stare.

"Something on your mind, lass?"

_Yes!_ she wanted to yell, but she bit her lip and stared at his chest instead.

"Didn't realize you were so put off by last night," he continued. "Think you need some space?"

"I need…" her words trailed off into the silence. "I _need_ answers."

"Answers."

She reached into his pocket for his phone and took a moment to log into her email. Pulled up the most recent one from Ranger. "Answers, Mal," she stated again, handing him back the device. "I need them. And soon."

He stared at the screen a moment before returning his gaze to her, his expression cool and serious. "You went behind my back with Ranger?"

"It's not like it did any good. And besides, you didn't leave me much of a choice."

She watched as he considered her response. "Ye could've left it alone."

"If the tables were turned, would _you_ have done that?"

His lips tipped into a small smile. "No."

"This isn't funny, Mal. For all I know you could be the freaking terminator come to take me out before I somehow postpone judgment day."

"Come now," he grinned. "We both know if ye suspected me of being anyone, it would have to be James Bond." Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Alright. Ye've made yer point, lass."

"And?" she prodded.

"And ye get one."

"One," she repeated. "One what?"

"One question," he replied. "One question and one completely honest answer. No lies, no silence, no dodging. Deal?"

Stephanie knew it was probably the best offer she was going to get, but she couldn't help but try and sweeten the deal anyway. "One question _and_ the promise for more answers later," she countered. "I like what we have Mal, I really do. But I just can't justify continuing on in a relationship with so much…uncertainty."

He remained silent for a long time, staring at her as if he was weighing her proposition and all its potential consequences. Judging by his expression, she half expected him to say no.

He leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her with the kind of kiss she'd grown to love…and hate.

"Deal."


End file.
